


Things That Go Bump

by Jaiden_S



Category: Queer as Folk (US), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:17:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaiden_S/pseuds/Jaiden_S
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is making noise in Brian's attic. Dean shows up to investigate. Things start really bumping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Go Bump

**Author's Note:**

> Author: Jaiden S  
> Title: Things That go Bump  
> Pairing: Brian Kinney (QAF)/Dean Winchester (SN)  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Summary – Something is bumping around in Brian’s attic. Dean shows up to investigate.  
> Warnings: AU (and how!), humor and slash  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.  
> Notes: Brian (QaF)/Dean (SN) crossover fic. No plot. Pure NC-17 smut. Just this side of crack!fic. Enjoy. Feedback is appreciated. Please use only soft tomatoes and don’t aim for my head.

For April in Pittsburgh, the afternoon was unseasonably warm. Dean was glad for that, since he’d had to park five blocks away. Then, after hauling himself and his duffel bag all that way, he found that the apartment in question was on the top floor. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.

At a nearby diner, he’d chatted up some redheaded waitress named Debbie who wouldn’t shut up about ghosts in downtown lofts. She’d nearly chewed his ear off before he got an address out of her. Sam thought it was a waste of time, but Dean agreed to take a look. Besides, for two pieces of homemade apple pie, he’d do almost anything.

“Damn. I knew I shouldn’t have had the roast beef sandwich,” griped Dean as he dragged himself up the stairs. A big hunk of his lunch was stuck between two of his rear molars, and he worked it with his tongue to no avail. Fingernail time. He dropped his bag at the door to the loft and hacked at the offending bit of beef with the determination of a miner digging for gold.

The loft door opened before he even had a chance to knock. A disheveled man dressed only in silk pajama bottoms leaned against the doorframe. “What?”

Dean stared, finger buried knuckle-deep in his mouth, and grinned sheepishly. “Uh, hi. I’m Dean. I heard there were noises coming from the attic?” He wiped his slimy finger on his jeans and stuck out his hand. 

The man in the doorway stared at the outstretched hand in disgust. “You’ll understand if I don’t shake that. I’m Brian. Debbie just called from the diner. The stairs to the attic are behind you. Call me if you get lost.” And with that he turned and tugged at the heavy steel door.

“Hang on there a minute, Cool Slice.” Dean stuck his foot between the door and the frame, to prevent Mr. Sunshine from closing it. “You can send me up there by myself if you want, but this whole thing works a lot better if you can tell me what exactly you heard. They’re called details. I gotta have them if you want whatever it is to go bye-bye.”

Brian responded with a glare. “I am not the one who invited you up here. Debbie was. Get her to show you around.”

Dean flashed his most winning smile. “Come on, Bri. Walk me up there, tell me what you heard, I can do my thing and you can do whatever it is you were gonna do in your jammies. Nice, by the way. Those designer?”

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “Ralph Lauren.”

Dean’s smile widened and he shrugged. “Is he anything like Ralph Macchio? He was awesome in ‘The Karate Kid.’” Brian looked at him like he had lost his mind, but Dean was on a roll. “You know… ‘Wax on, wax off’? Mr. Miyagi? Great movie. You need to rent it.”

Brian sighed with resignation and slid his feet into a pair of leather slippers near the door. “Come on, Shaggy. Let’s get this over with before the rest of the Scooby gang wonders where you are.” He brushed past Dean and stomped up the stairs leading to the attic.

“No, I don’t need any help with my stuff, and thanks for asking,” called Dean. He hoisted the bag onto his shoulder with an irritated grunt and followed Brian up the stairs. 

At the top of the landing was a large metal door. Brian turned the knob, leaned his shoulder against it and pushed. It creaked loudly in protest, but the door swung open. The attic itself was unfinished storage. Exposed wiring dangled from metal crossbeams. Stains of unknown origin dotted the concrete floor. Boxes and sacks of every description lined the shelves on the walls.

“Man, what a dump,” Dean remarked. He let the bag slide off of his shoulder, and it hit the concrete with a satisfying thump. “It’s hot as the devil’s armpit up here.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Brian retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s an attic. Heat rises. Now, get to it. I’m going back to bed.”

Dean looked mildly amused. “Bed? It’s 1pm on a gorgeous Saturday and you want to take a nap?”

A slow smile spread over Brian’s face as he replied, “I said I was going to bed. I never mentioned sleeping.”

“Ohhh. Got a hot date, huh? What’s she like? Blonde? Brunette? Redhead?” Dean smiled in knowing appreciation. “Redheads are good in the sack. I dated this one who was a gymnast. I never knew people could bend like that.”

“It’s a ‘he’, and I like blonds. Natural blonds.” Brian let his eyes roam over Dean’s torso for a moment before raising them to give Dean a pointed look.

“Ah. So you swing that way.” Dean tugged at his shirt collar. Suddenly, it felt even warmer.

“I don’t just swing that way. I hit home runs that way. And, yes, I am gay.” Brian’s eyes twinkled with sudden interest, and he took a step closer. “Does it make you uncomfortable, Shaggy?”

Dean took a step backward and raised his hands in protest. “No, no. What you do in your free time is all you. It’s just that I’m straight. Straight as an arrow. Really straight. Straight, straight. You wouldn’t be interested in Joe Schmo Midwestern Straight Guy. Some of my hick might rub off on you.”

Brian’s smile turned wickedly feral. “Do you know how many straight boys I have fucked? Straight boys are my favorite.”

“Oh, no no no no no,” stammered Dean, who now backed away at a steady pace…until he backed right over a box and lay sprawling on the concrete floor. Shit. Not good. He was fresh meat to that half-dressed perv. He flung a wild-eyed look over his shoulder in search of an escape route, but it was no use. In that one instant, he was trapped.

Brian was on him in a heartbeat, seated on his thighs, one hand pinning his chest to the floor, the other clamped on Dean’s jaw. “I saw the way you looked at me downstairs. You want me.”

“Your pajamas! I want your pajamas! That’s all, I swear,” cried Dean in panicked desperation. He bucked hard in a reckless attempt to unseat his assailant, but Brian didn’t budge. “Tell me where to find them and I’ll be gone!”

“And let those salesmen have you? Not a chance. They’d fuck you in a dressing room and watch the replay on the security cameras. At least this way, you won’t end up on someone’s website.” Brian’s fingers effortlessly unbuttoned Dean’s shirt and began easing it off of his torso. “Nice abs, Shaggy.”

“Holy shit, Dude!, you’re not seriously gonna do this, are you?” Dean’s voice cracked, and he coughed to try to cover it up. Everything was going horribly, horribly wrong.

“Absolutely, I am going to do…this,” purred Brian as he shoved his hand down the front of Dean’s pants, “and this, too.” He closed his fingers around Dean’s flaccid shaft and began to stroke. “That’s just for starters.”

“But I’m not gay,” whimpered Dean, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a moan.

“Don’t worry. I’m gay enough for both of us.” Much to Brian’s delight, Dean’s cock responded eagerly to his touch. “Though I’m detecting a hint of latent homosexuality. Are you sure you’ve never had cock before?”

“No…nngh…I think I’d remember that,” Dean ground out between clenched teeth. His shoes, pants and boxers were in a pile somewhere just out of his line of sight, and he hadn’t the foggiest idea when or how they’d been removed. Clearly, Brian had done this before. That scared Dean more than his last bout with the yellow-eyed Demon. The Demon at least left his body intact. Brian, on the other hand, would likely eat him whole. 

Something cold and slimy slid inside Dean’s tight entrance, and his head snapped up in shock. “What the Hell is that? Is that your finger?! What’s it doing in my ass?!”

“I’m applying lubrication, and if you want to be able to walk out of here, I need to use it.” Brian worked in two fingers slowly, massaging the ring of muscle.

Dean’s eyes widened with dawning realization. “You brought that with you, you sick bastard! You planned this the entire time!”

Brian chuckled and gave his fingers a cruel swirl. “No. I had the lube in my pajama pocket. I’m like a Boy Scout: Always prepared.”

“Boy Scout, my ass,” Dean grumbled before his words melted into a jumble of incoherent moans. 

“And what a nice ass it is,” Brian remarked. Pajama bottoms were off. Condom was on. Before Dean could fully register what had happened, Brian was on him, in him, impaling him on a hard length and driving him into the cold concrete floor.

“Fuck,” hissed Dean. The pain nearly took his breath away. 

“Ask and ye shall receive,” Brian responded, punctuating his words with a hard upward thrust.

The coupling itself was brief but savage, more painful and intense than anything Dean could have imagined. Sure, he’d had sex before, but nothing like this. This was fucking. Pure, raw, animalistic fucking. And Brian took every last bit of him. So, this was what it was like to be possessed? Not so bad after all.

When it was over, Dean felt as if he had gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson. Though his body ached from the harsh treatment, he felt sated…and annoyed.

“Is this how you treat every guy who shows up at your door?” griped Dean as he pushed himself up on his elbows. 

Brian had already pulled on his pajama bottoms and stood grinning down at him, hands resting lightly on his hips. The guy had hardly broken a sweat. Arrogant bastard. “No. Just the hot ones.”

Dean grinned up at him. “Yeah, well I am kinda…Hey, wait a minute!”

But Brian was halfway to the door. “Show yourself out. I have a date coming in five minutes.”

“So, this is it? You just want me gone?” called Dean as he struggled back into his clothes.

“That’s right, Shaggy. Hop back in the Mystery Machine and hit the road.” Brian disappeared down the stairwell. Dean heard the door to his loft slide shut.

Silently, Dean finished dressing and hauled his bag down the narrow stairwell. Just as he passed the loft apartment, the door opened. Brian leaned against the doorway and grinned at him. “You’re in luck. My date cancelled. Get in here.”

Dean frowned. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Bullshit. You just got your brains fucked out by a guy who showed you the best sex of your life, and you are dying to do it again.” Brian stepped back from the doorway. “Get in here.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. For a long minute he eyed Brian before he made up his mind. “Fine, but I get to be on top.”


End file.
